


HOLD ON

by viflow



Series: Lost on you [7]
Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Requited Love, Season 15 episode 18 coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viflow/pseuds/viflow
Summary: Confused, startled, still before the moment to process the cruel truth, Dean looked around in the room.  And the moment his mind kicked back; his whole being plunged into the cold depths of despair.No. No!!!Cas was gone.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Lost on you [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/730866
Comments: 21
Kudos: 176





	HOLD ON

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. Just like everybody else in this fandom, I was a total wreck after watching this episode, and the first thing I made when I had time; was to sit down and write this, to get the mix of anguish, dissapointment and emptiness out of my chest. Sorry, but didn't have time to post it til now.

**THEN**

From the moment they met, Dean didn’t know what it was about Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

Except that he was an ass and arrogant and irritating and odd and not-at-all adorable with his awkwardness, and that Dean wanted him to be around all the time without quite knowing why he wanted it. And sometimes he had a bizarre compulsion to wrap Cas in his arms or push his face into Cas' neck to smell that unique, clean, crispy mix of ozone and rain and freshly cut grass that seemed to cling to the skin of Jimmy Novak’s vessel.

And Dean just really didn't want to think of all the other times, when he wanted to do things, silly things, that would make those ridiculously plump lips curl upwards into that barely there, touch of a smile.

He didn’t know why, or what, Cas did to make him feel like that. And it was all very strange, and sort of – nerve-wracking, and confusing, and really, Dean just fucking didn’t know how to handle it.

Usually, against all the shit kind of supernatural things, he’d use knives and guns and blades and every different sort of weapons in his arsenal, but he’d hardly ran through Cas and his fucking adorable head tilt and quirking smile with a blade.

So instead he found himself grumbling and lashing out at Cas for stupid things. Found himself drinking more, fucking more women, in a sort of unpleasant, panicky compulsion, every time just the sight of Cas made him breathless and terrified, because he wanted to hug him, touch him. Wanted to run his fingers down the line of Cas’ strong, stubborn jaw, then skim them —badly— over those ridiculously seductive lips. And, what with the passing of time just became everytime: he just simply wanted Cas to be near him.

And everytime he was a colossal jerk and ass to Cas, he just took it all in. Sometimes with a stoic expression or an exasperated huff and a wry, resigned comment. Other times angry and pissed off with _that_ badass look. But no matter what he said or what his face displayed, there was always _that_ indecipherable look in his eyes.

And Dean hated that look. It made something achy and longing twist uncomfortably in his chest, and he ended up lashing out at Cas more, pushing him away more, drinking and fucking even more, though every time he did, it just made him feel more like shit.

...................

** NOW **

Dean swallowed, and his gut clenched with an ice-cold fright. “Why does it sound like a goodbye?”

‘’Because it is. ‘’Castiel’s said, his head tipped to the side in _that_ way, his beautiful blue-blue eyes were wet and soaked with affection and growing emotions as he read Dean’s own expression.

Emotions, which Dean hoped must’ve mirrored Cas’, since he wasn’t, couldn’t make any attempt to hide them.

They watched each other like that for a long second, till the joyful expression on Cas’s face softened into something more reflective, something poignant and hurtful.

“I love you.” Still smiling Cas said, in that rusty, but now, somehow, too raw, too bristle voice, and abruptly… Dean’s whole word came to a sudden halt.

His breath was coming hard, his heart was thudding like crazy in his chest, as he couldn’t do anything but stare at Cas.

His eyes ran over Cas’ face, that face, which was now so dear and more familiar to Dean as his own. Over the tears slipping down Cas’ face, tears he shouldn’t bloody be able to have. Over those chapped, plump, trembling lips, Dean wanted to taste for more than a decade.

And the thing in Dean’s chest— the same thing he’s been carrying around from day one his eyes landed on Cas— twisted painfully and sharp.

 _Holly, freaking Heaven_ , Cas felt like this just as long as Dean did, and he had harboured these feelings, this one, ultimate secret from him in fear of rejection, of hate or disgust, and Dean hated that. Hated especially that everything Cas had just mentioned— his resigned statement that the one thing he wanted, he could never have —came from Dean’s fucking cowardness and bloody self-esteem issues and putting the saving of world, always -always first… and Cas second.

“Don’t do this, Cas,” he whispered, still shocked over the fact that the one thing he wanted above all, the one thing he thought he couldn't have, turned out that- all this time- he did have. And he felt frightened out of his gut and appalled at himself, because eventually, in a real Dean Winchester’s style, he still found a way to screw it all up and lose it in the end.

Cas wrapped his hand around Dean’s shoulder, letting out a long, weary, shivering breath.

For a moment they seemed to be frozen there in the waiting stillness, connected by the one warm spot of Cas’s fingers on Dean’s shoulder.

And at the look on Cas’ face, Dean suddenly felt like he was standing on the top of a very steep hill, realizing that he was about to tumble down.

And he made a movement to reach for Cas, fucking Hell, not that, _not again,_ and he heard himself saying in choked off, raw, desperate kind of voice. “Cas-‘’ he began, because he felt like he was breaking open, like the truth of his feelings were tearing their way out of his chest.

But with an anguished, tearful, protective and determined look, Cas’ eyes locked on his, ‘’Goodbye, Dean,’’ The son of a bitch said very calm and resolved, before he fucking threw Dean to the wall, with a slight twitch of his hand.

It happened so fast, like the moment after the release of a bullet. And then, before Dean even had a chance to gather himself and stand up, along with Billie, Cas was gone.

Confused, startled, still before the moment to process the cruel truth, Dean looked around in the room. And the moment his mind kicked back; his whole being plunged into a cold depths of despair.

No _. No!!!_

Cas was gone.

Dean felt as if he’d been levelled by a very powerful, very deadly strike. If anybody, anything, had just swung a blade and sliced him in two, he would have felt less stunned, pained and tortured. His heart, his breath, everything inside him seemed to stop working. Except his mind, which was working too quickly, scrambling to fit the pieces all together in a picture that he could finally see.

Cas died, and he didn’t even have a chance to say how he really felt.

With a strangled sound he clenched his hands in his hair and dropped his head to his knees as a horrified, raw, almost animalistic sound of grief and regret tore up from his throat. And then suddenly he was crying, gasping for air between short, deep, breathless hitches that seemed to wrack his whole body, because all that time – all those long horrible months and years of pushing Cas away, and making him suffer when he could've –

And now... Now, he can’t think about anything, anything, but that he would give up everything –everything, to see those beautiful blue eyes, that half smile and make it sure, that Cas never knew anguish or suffering ever again.  
………………..

Sam’s mind was blaring. His heart was racing wildly. He called and called, trying to get hold of Dean and Cas for hours.

Dean was fine. He had to be fine. Christ, No! He couldn’t even contemplate it if he or Cas was not.

Even the thought, just the thought of it terrified him: the sudden epiphany of the chance that Dean was gone, Cas was gone, dissolved in a blink of an eye like all their friend. And after those terrifying moments of finding Eileen’s phone abandoned by her car, after long hours of trying not to think, not to feel, Sam realises he’s shaking, and tries desperately to stop it.

He doesn’t have time for weakness now. For Jack’s sake, he needs to be strong and comforting and gentle. But his breathing is uneven for the whole ride it takes them to reach the bunker.

And then Sam found his brother.

Desperate and fraught and broken.

Dean’s hands were clasping his shoulders, holding Sam’s body against his chest, because Dean’s body seemed to have collapsed.

And Sam’s hands were slipping and clutching at Dean’s shoulders, holding on almost painfully tight, one hand curling in Dean’s hair, holding his head while Dean was crying.

Crying hot, fast tears that spread all over his face and seeped into the fabric of Sam’s jacket. And when Dean cried harder, and harder, shuddering, and panting distressful, choking noises and words about Cas... For the first time in his life, Sam considered the chance, that his brother might not come back from that loss.

His chest twisted uneasily as Chuck’s words- when he showed him their possible futures- suddenly exploded in his head.

' _No, the Dean I know... The Dean who raised me -- He'd never give up. No matter how bad things got._ ' He said it at that time with so much surety, so much belief and conviction, but looking at his brother now...

 _'Well, he does. He will. This is the truth, Sam_.' Chuck said then, and he didn't want to believe it then. He would never-

And at that. Because of remembering that, a determination rose in Sam’s chest. Hot and heavy.

There was nothing but a single clear thought in his head: His brother was crying and broken in a way he’s never seen him before. His brother was crying and distressed, and must be comforted. And he would do anything to beat Chuck, beat the Empty, to bring Cas back.

Because his brother did love Cas. And Sam knew the irrefutable truth, that without Cas, Dean would never have a moment ‘s happiness. Those two dumbasses belonged together. He never did doubt that for a second.

‘Shh,’ He breathed, holding Dean tightly, rocking him. ‘’Dean – Dean. I think, I think— I know, how to bring Cas’ back.


End file.
